


Super Enchanting

by LadyDrace



Series: Junk Ficlets from Tumblr [111]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Constantine Fusion, Derek Hale as Superman, First Meetings, Getting Together, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, POV Derek Hale, Smoking, Stiles Stilinski as Constantine, Supergirl Fusion, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:10:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Derek is Superman, Stiles is Constantine. Magic is science, demons are apparently a thing, and Derek is actually a little bored. Not for long, though, thanks to a snarky mage in a beige overcoat.





	Super Enchanting

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for krysylyn86 [on Tumblr](http://ladydrace.tumblr.com/post/152328314101/hi-em-sent-me-to-you-pale-silver-comb-i-have-a) for [this prompt](http://krysylyn86.tumblr.com/post/152102268421/i-just-thought-of-something-that-i-didnt-know-i). I feel like I only kind of followed the prompt. 
> 
> I made Stiles unspecified American rather than English like Constantine, and seeing as my only knowledge of him comes from the Keanu Reeves movie and maybe 20 mins of youtube clips of the tv-series, his characterization is probably a mess. Super!Derek is taken almost directly from Supergirl, who is Cora in this, btw. Because yes. 
> 
> Unbetaed. 

Derek doesn’t remember Krypton, but from what Cora and the crystals have told him he’s pretty sure he can guess where his perception of magic comes from. On Krypton there was only science. Kryptonian language doesn’t even have a word for magic, because it’s all one and the same. No matter how impossible and unbelievable it looks, it’s all explainable, all quantifiable and measurable.

 

That doesn’t mean Derek can’t have immense respect for those who wield it, or that he lacks appreciation for how rare and special it is. What it does mean is that when he comes across a man in a dusty beige overcoat doing things that normal humans can’t usually do, he’s intrigued more than scared or awed.

 

”Wow. That’s a neat trick,” he says as he lands slowly in a dark back street of an unfamiliar town, eyeing the singed spot where something demonic was standing a few seconds earlier.

 

”Isn’t it just?” the guys says, shaking out his hands with a crooked grin, not even turning to face Derek. Either because he knew Derek was there the whole time, or because he doesn’t care. Either seems equally likely. ”Oh, hey,” he says, when his eyes finally slide over to catch the blue and red. ”Superman. Fancy seeing you here. This isn’t exactly your neighborhood, is it?”

 

Derek shrugs. ”I was flying by. Sometimes I just like to fly around.”

 

The guy blinks. ”… around the _globe_?”

 

”Yeah.”

 

There’s a long moment where the man just stares before he mirrors Derek’s shrug. ”Okay, then. Whatever floats your boat.” He turns to walk away, and while Derek doesn’t consider himself in any way entitled to adoration or idolizing, the casual way of being passed by like a normal and uninteresting person is something he usually only sees when he’s out of costume. It’s actually more intriguing to him than the magic, and he follows before he’s even considered whether it’s a good idea.

 

He should have considered it.

 

Sharp pain explodes across his face as he smacks directly into an invisible wall, and rather than bouncing off the surface of his body like it usually does, the force smashes his nose flat against his face. He cries out from the shock and surprise, and gingerly checks for blood as magical guy turns around to face him fully this time. ”Haven’t you ever heard it’s rude to follow people around? It’s actually kind of a felony.”

 

”I wasn’t trying to _stalk_ you,” Derek says, sounding stuffy from holding his nose. ”I just wanted to… well, know your name.” It sounds exactly as creepy as he imagines it felt, and he curses himself for not thinking before following someone further down a dark alley. Especially someone whose body language made it abundantly clear they were not interested in socializing.

 

”I can think of about a hundred women who could tell you why what you just did was a dick move. And those are only the ones I know personally,” the guy says, and Derek feels like shit. He was raised better than this.

 

”Yes, I’m… I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your hair now,” he says awkwardly, and flies off before he can make a bigger mess of things. He’s a continent away before he realizes that he was hurt by something that wasn’t kryptonite, and he still has no idea who even wielded that power.

* * *

 

He puts it mostly out of his mind and goes about his daily life. He protects Metropolis, and sometimes other areas of the world, writes his articles and keeps up his on-again-off-again thing with Lois. The irony of it is that _she’s_ the one who doesn’t feel like she has room for a relationship in her life, even with Superman. She’s working towards her second pulitzer prize, and while a roll in the hay is good here and there, she’ll always kick him out of bed the next morning. He’s mostly made his peace with it.

 

His life is pretty steady and predictable, actually, right down to the occasional supervillain. Originality in their approach is getting more and more rare, and while he wouldn’t say he’s bored per se, still keeping plenty busy just making sure his identity is protected, there’s not much to capture his attention either.

 

”Yo, Derek, there’s someone at the front desk asking for you,” Mindy says over the phone, and Derek takes the elevator down, spending the time to mull over the best phrasing for the article he’s working on. He stops dead when he steps into the lobby, coming face to face with Magical Man from several weeks ago.

 

”Eeey, there he is! My old pal!” he says in an atrocious drawl, and Mindy rolls her eyes.

 

”The friend you couldn’t remember the name of. Right.” She gives Derek a look. ”Do you know this clown?”

 

”Uhh. Sort of, yeah,” Derek says, and Magical Man sends Mindy a wink before leading Derek out of the building by the elbow.

 

”Right, so here’s the thing, I need your help.”

 

”How did you even find me without knowing my name?” Derek asks, stomach twisting with the realization that now another person knows he’s Superman. It’s getting harder and harder to keep his secret.

 

”The magic found you for me,” the guy says, waving him off. ”Anyway, I need-”

  
”Wait, hang on,” Derek says, digging his heels in and forcing them both to a stop. It takes more effort than he expects, and he’s a little unnerved. ”Who are you, and why should I help you?”

 

The guy turns to face him with a frown before heaving a frustrated sigh. ”Ugh, fine, if we’re doing this, we’re doing it quick. My name is Stiles. No, that’s not my real name, because names have power. I can do magic, that’s the short version anyway, and you’re gonna help me because you were a little bit of a dick to me last time we met, so you totally owe me, and I can’t think of anyone else right now who can literally fly to space just like that. So you’re gonna help me, and you’re gonna do it in the next fifteen minutes or so, or a lot of people are gonna get hurt.”

 

Derek has the overwhelming urge to tell Stiles to ask nicely, but lives are at stake, so. It’ll have to wait.

 

* * *

 

After that Stiles seems to pop up everywhere. He helps Cora with some kind of spirit monsters, and shows up on her instagram account, making a goofy face next to hers in a silly selfie. He winks at Derek from across a busy coffee shop before disappearing into thin air. He leaves sooty circles all over town from dispatching demons, and is somehow always gone before Derek can actually talk to him, even after they’ve helped each other out. It’s kind of frustrating, but as Lois points out it’s probably karma from all the times he’s given people the slip himself to go hop into his costume. It’s hard to argue with that.  

 

His frustration with Stiles’ elusive nature is probably a big part of the reason why the sex happens.

 

”Well. That was… impulsive,” Derek says breathlessly, one leg hanging off the crappy motel bed. Stiles chuckles next to him, one pale arm behind his head, the other guiding a cigarette to his lips, dark and mysterious tattoos on display. Derek wants to lick them.

 

”Maybe for you.”

 

It takes Derek a moment to catch up. ”Wait… you planned this?”

 

”Eh.” Stiles shrugs. ”Not planned as such. I don’t plan much of anything. I do prepare for most eventualities, though.”

 

”Ah. Guess that explains the lube,” Derek murmurs, still feeling weirdly scandalized that Stiles evidently always carries lube and condoms around in his coat pockets, right next to charms and talismans and hex bags.

 

Stiles raises his eyebrows at Derek. ”If you’re a guy and you like it up the butt, why _wouldn’t_ you always carry supplies?!”

 

”Maybe because some of us are kinda more focused on saving people?”

 

”Or maybe because your costume doesn’t have pockets. Or zippers. Now _that’s_ magic.”

 

Derek smirks, because with all the confidence and swagger in the world, Stiles had still been stumped and somewhat miffed that he couldn’t work out how to get the suit off. ”It’s a type of nano-”  

 

”Nope!” Stiles holds his hands up, smoke billowing around him. ”Don’t wanna know! There are so few mysteries left in my life, let me keep this one at least!”

 

”Okay, okay,” Derek says around a laugh. He can’t remember the last time he laughed in bed with someone. He feels lighter, strangely so, considering he’s lying naked next to someone who could hurt or maybe even kill him with a flick of wrist. But he’s starting to think maybe that’s part of why it’s so good. Derek is a gentle person by nature, even when he doesn’t have to be, so it’s never felt like any kind of hardship being gentle with people he sleeps with to make sure he doesn’t accidentally hurt them. But it _is_ a novel experience to be able to let loose. Stiles hadn’t wanted gentle. He’d goaded and poked at Derek, snarled and grappled until it was more like wrestling than sex, and yet, there’s not a mark on Stiles anywhere. Derek has a _hickey_. He touches it gently, feeling like he should be having a crisis, but it’s not happening.

 

”We should do this again sometime,” Stiles says, stubbing out his cigarette on the scarred wood of the motel bedframe before snuggling up to Derek, so sure of his welcome that Derek is kinda stunned. Stiles smells like smoke and gunpowder and a little bit of sulfur. He’s rude, smirking, promiscuous and pragmatic. He’s everything Derek is not.

 

Derek is _enchanted_ by him.

 

So of course it happens again. And again. And yet again. After battles mostly, but also sometimes during lunch breaks or at other randoms times when Stiles just pops up like, well… magic. It’s basically booty calls, and Derek thinks he should feel cheapened by it somehow. But he just isn’t. If anything, he’s a little annoyed that he can’t ever find Stiles to take some initiative himself.

 

”How do I find you?” he asks for maybe the fifth time, trying his luck while they’re in the middle of things in the hopes of catching him off guard enough to avoid the slick brush-off.

 

”You don’t. I find you. I’ll know when you need me,” Stiles gasps, and arches his neck against Derek’s teeth.

 

Derek can’t help but huff out a laugh. ”You didn’t yesterday.” It had been a very long and frustrating day in many small, mundane ways, and Derek had spent his night cranky and jerking off alone because he’s too damn proper to sleep with two people at once, so calling up someone else was out of the question.

 

Stiles pushes him away, though, and searches his face with sudden urgency. ”Wait, there was a situation? Was anyone hurt?”

 

”No,” Derek says slowly. ”No, it… wasn’t that kind of situation.”

 

It’s kind of amazing to watch Stiles’ face morph from one emotion to the next. Confusion, sadness, disbelief, back to confusion and finally settling on something open and strangely vulnerable. ”You… you wanted to see me? Just for… I dunno, fun?”

 

”Yeah.”

 

The stillness of him is unnerving, considering he’s never calm. Always moving, always vibrant, even in sleep, and Derek holds his gaze, willing him to understand that Derek isn’t joking around. ”I’m not fun,” is what Stiles says eventually.

 

”I think you’re hilarious,” Derek counters, completely deadpan, and Stiles huffs.

 

”You know what I mean, asshole.”

 

”Yes, I know what you mean. And I disagree. So stop freaking out and give me your damn phone number.”

 

Stiles does.

 

End.


End file.
